


this diminuendo only gets obscene

by kusemono (Glitchgoat)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Praise Kink, Sloppy Seconds, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitchgoat/pseuds/kusemono
Summary: Yamato is, apparently, trashed; between the booze and the—events that just transpired – his filter is quite self-evidently gone. That’s what Ryuu tells himself on repeat; it’s the only possible explanation for how casually he puts the idea out there. He just doesn’t know what he’s saying, right?[now with chapters 2+3]





	1. this diminuendo only gets obscene

**Author's Note:**

> since when's that bad enough to call it off
> 
> 1) i'd like to thank my useless fucking friends for not stopping me from writing 5000 words of porn that nobody wanted xoxoxo
> 
> 2) ambiguously set post-part-3, entirely so i can have the implication of ryuu and gaku living under the same roof  
> not that it matters, because this is basically zero-to-dicks right out the gate, but you know, i'm a sucker for details or something
> 
> 3) i just wholeheartedly believe that ryuu has a voyeurism kink. apparently.

There are a lot of questions Ryuu has had to ask himself throughout his life, but the one he’s asking himself now is not one he expected to have to consider. That is: is the creeping heat in his face the product of the buzz he’s been nursing all evening?

Or, alternatively, is it the sight of Gaku shallowly rocking his hips into Yamato Nikaido’s mouth that’s making Ryuu’s face feel a bit warm?

Science may never know.

(It’s definitely the latter.)

Gaku is probably lingering around Ryuu’s level of drunkenness – and using Ryuu as a metric, he himself is rather less drunk than he might like. Both Gaku and Yamato kept a watchdog eye on his drinks all evening. This may have contributed to Yamato being a little bit more inebriated than either of them, as they had all been too preoccupied making sure that Ryuu didn’t slip past tipsy to keep tabs on their guest.

Yamato is probably the only one of the three of them that’s truly _drunk_ , but it provides a nice cover for things any of them might be a bit gun-shy of without the excuse of alcohol.

(They really don’t need the excuse, not for anything, but it helps.)

Ryuu’s seated at the foot of Gaku’s bed, while Gaku himself sits further up, with Yamato kneeling on the floor between Gaku’s legs, and Ryuu’s all but transfixed. Gaku’s leaning back on one hand, with the other tangled in Yamato’s hair.

It’s just a preamble, almost a formality (if anything at all about this can be said to be a formality). Even so – or perhaps because of that – a shiver runs through Ryuu. It is, at least in part, for his benefit as spectator.

As Gaku pushes his cock into Yamato’s mouth – almost but not quite into his throat, retreating before he activates Yamato’s gag reflex with the practiced familiarity of someone who knows exactly how much leeway he has – he murmurs something about Yamato’s mouth. Ryuu doesn’t entirely catch it, but he makes out the words _better use_. Yamato makes a sound that might have been a derisive laugh at Gaku’s attempts at bravado, or it might have been a noise of agreement, but it’s impossible to tell from Ryuu’s vantage point.

Does it really matter? No matter what the intent, it makes Ryuu’s dick jump to attention, and it makes Gaku hiss through his teeth. Gaku clenches his fist in the hair on the back of Yamato’s head for a moment, then releases. Ryuu wonders if he’s reconsidering something.

Ryuu’s pants are really starting to get a bit uncomfortable, and his hands move of their own accord to unbutton them and push them down, though his underwear stays where it is.

While Ryuu’s occupied with this, Gaku pulls out of Yamato’s mouth. Before Yamato can get out a smart-ass comment, or even get to his feet or onto the bed, Gaku grabs his tongue between his thumb and forefinger, pulling his mouth open, and a thin, stray trail of spit starts to make its way down his chin.

Ryuu looks up from kicking his pants off onto the floor at the foot of the bed, and he could swear that he catches Yamato giving him a sidelong glance. His eyes aren’t totally in focus and his cheeks are tinted pink, and whether either of those are because of the alcohol or otherwise, Ryuu doesn’t want to make any uncouth assumptions.  
Either way, it happens in the space of a second; when Ryuu looks again Yamato’s eyes are back on Gaku—and now, Gaku’s the one looking at him, full on, turning his head.

“Hey, Ryuu,” he says, inclining his head towards Yamato. “You want to fuck his mouth?”

Yamato makes a garbled noise that is almost definitely _you don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dickweed,_ but it’s hard to form words in his current state.

“No, I—” Ryuu says immediately, the words falling out of him unbidden, and he shakes his head quickly. He’s _more_ than content with just watching for the time being; he hadn’t meant to communicate that he wanted to impose. “I just—” he nods ineffectually towards himself, hoping that his intention is understood.

(Look, Ryuu’s not going to be so arrogant as to think it so bluntly, but in certain departments he is extraordinarily gifted, and that means that when he gets hard, he has to make the decision between shucking off his pants or being profoundly uncomfortable.)

Gaku glances from Ryuu’s face to his dick and back again; Ryuu subconsciously holds his breath.

“Alright. Thought I’d offer,” Gaku says with a one-shouldered shrug, and releases Yamato’s tongue. As he does, he shifts backwards on the bed, freeing up space for Yamato to clamber up.

Yamato does just that, though not without commentary. “Not really yours to offer, Yaotome,” he says, and his voice is a little raspier than normal.  
(Ryuu bites his lip as Yamato wipes his own with the back of his hand.)

“You wouldn’t complain,” Gaku says as he reaches across to the bedside table for the small, unmarked bottle sitting there.

“That’s beside the point,” Yamato fires right back, an easy (if a bit lopsided) smirk on his face. Their jabs at each other have no bite whatsoever; it’s almost as if they do it out of a sense of obligation.

“You’re sure you don’t want to shut him up, Ryuu?” Gaku tosses over his shoulder. Ryuu wonders dumbly for a moment whether Gaku would be so brazen without the alibi of his buzz. Regaining his sense but not his voice, Ryuu shakes his head even though Gaku’s not looking at him.

“Looks like a no,” Yamato provides for Gaku’s benefit, lounging back on the pillows, propped up on his arms.

“Shame.”

“Not everyone has an oral fixation, Yaotome.”

“Turn over,” Gaku says instead of validating that with a response.

Ryuu would wish they’d knock it off – not just because the longer they talk, the more they prolong the inevitable, but also because even the insincere back-and-forth scans like argument – but he says nothing. Part of this is that his tongue feels quite a bit like lead; the other is that a part of him finds something entirely a little shameful (in the best of ways) in being ignored.  
Either way, Ryuu gets it both ways soon enough as Gaku’s attention closes in on working lube-slick fingers into Yamato, and Yamato’s attention is – shockingly enough – occupied with the same.

Ryuu’s eyes are locked on the sight; his breath hitches slightly as his hand falls, palming himself through the thin fabric that conceals his dick in only the most academic sense.

Gaku, for all his posturing at gruffness, is meticulous. He doesn’t waste time by any means, but he’s not given to unnecessary roughness as he fingers Yamato in preparation.

“Come on, Yaotome,” Yamato mumbles impatiently. Gaku doesn’t dignify it with a proper response, but he’s not really one to ignore requests, so it doesn’t take _that_ much longer before he removes his hand, gives a few token strokes to his own dick to spread the lube across it, and line up with Yamato.

The moments in which Gaku presses in, pauses, pulls partway out, and continues on seem to stretch out into eternity from the point of view of the spectator, let alone those actively participating in it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Gaku hisses through his teeth as he bottoms out, pulling Yamato’s hips up to meet his own, so that he’s seated as fully inside him as possible. Yamato, in his turn, keeps his head down, face hidden by the blockade of his arms. His breathing is a little heavier, but he keeps his mouth shut remarkably well for the sake of whatever’s going to count as his pride.  
(Yamato doesn’t particularly care to fuck face to face. Even drunk, he’s too guarded to let either of them see that.)

Gaku does not have the burden of biting back what he wants to say.  In fact, he bows low over Yamato’s back, pushes his hair away from his ear, and—

Even though Ryuu’s spectating is a welcome part of the dynamic, there are still parts of it that are for an audience of Gaku and Yamato alone. This is one of them; Ryuu can’t even begin to make out the words that Gaku hisses into Yamato’s ear.

Ryuu’s okay with that; it lets his imagination fill in the blanks himself.

Though he can’t hear what Gaku says, he can observe its effects in the way that Yamato’s dick twitches under his raised hips, the faintest unguarded shudder that runs through his body, the way the faintest blush reaches his neck, creeping up from under the collar of his long-unbuttoned button-down. (It’s cute—and he’d never say that much out loud, to save Yamato’s pride.)

Even though he should be well past that point, Ryuu feels a familiar, well-worn sense of lingering guilt.

Not that it’s enough to stop him from pushing down the band of his underwear, exposing his dick to the first shock of cold air. It’s quickly replaced with the warmth of his hand, stroking roughly in time with what’s in front of him. Gaku sets a steady pace, his movements are deep and hard, not _careful_ so much as _deliberate_ ; he’s in no particular rush. Ryuu matches it with his hand.

Ryuu doesn’t allow himself to slip into fantasy, not now, doesn’t want to risk getting off too early. Even if Yamato doesn’t feel up to him after Gaku (he won’t say as much, but _god Ryuu hopes he does_ ), he can just deal with himself in private, better than getting off quickly and having to awkwardly excuse himself.

It’s not that Ryuu doesn’t want to be involved, or that he wouldn’t be welcome to, or even necessarily discounting that he _will_ ; but for now, there’s more than enough to appreciate from his vantage point that he might miss if he were otherwise occupied.

Like how Gaku grits his teeth like he wants to bite and leave marks but knows better than to do so; or how Yamato, as though hungry for contact, tries to move against Gaku but can’t quite find the leverage in this position.  
Only after an agonizingly long time, Yamato moves one arm to snake it underneath himself. Before he can get his hands on himself, though, Gaku swats his hand away.

Yamato lifts his head just slightly, as if preparing to say something in complaint, but Gaku is still bowed over him and won’t allow him that movement. He says something low into Yamato’s ear (again, Ryuu doesn’t catch it, but his imagination runs wild), but the hand still slick with the remnants of lube falls to Yamato’s erection a moment later. Yamato lets his forehead fall back down onto the mattress with a huffed breath, accepting his fate. It’s not a hard fate to accept.  
It’s even less difficult when Gaku, in an act of what is either mercy or the exact inverse, picks up his pace. He wasn’t overly gentle before, and he’s not throwing his composure to the wind now, but he apparently feels quite welcome to fuck Yamato into the bed.

He’s apparently entirely correct, as Yamato doesn’t last all that much longer. He goes tense all over, balling his hands into fists as he makes a mess of Gaku’s hand.

Gaku huffs a brief little chuckle and Ryuu’s not wholly proud to say that the sound settles warmly in his stomach. Gaku bows down over Yamato again, still slowly stroking his twitching dick with one hand, slips the fingers of the other into Yamato’s mouth, and—

Well, whatever it was that Gaku just said to Yamato, it definitely involved the word _tight_. Ryuu definitely caught that much and almost goes lightheaded, and that’s before the half-choked little noises slip past Yamato’s lips when he can’t close his mouth.

It only takes a few more thrusts before Gaku’s hips stutter to an uneven stop. He’s breathing a little bit harder than he perhaps realizes. His chest rises and falls, his lips part, a little bit of sweat plasters his hair to his forehead.  
He lets go of Yamato’s dick and swipes his messy hand across Yamato’s abs, one last parting shot.

Ryuu finds himself admiring how his groupmate manages to look stunning even now, though this is hardly news.  
His hand falls away from himself as Gaku pulls out of Yamato. Ryuu wonders if maybe he shouldn’t have held off as long as he did; Yamato looks kind of out of it as he pushes himself up into a kneeling position. Ryuu prepares himself, emotionally, to slink off to his room or the bathroom to finish himself up.

(It wouldn’t be the first time; no matter how much Gaku and Yamato alike make varied and numerous offers to get him to stay, even if just for a blowjob, he hates to impose.)

“You’re doing alright, Nikaido?” Gaku inquires as he shifts around so he’s sitting propped up, lounging against the pillows and the headboard.

“Am I ever not,” Yamato says, adjusting his glasses, which got quite a bit pushed around while he was burying his face in the sheets.

Gaku shakes his head. He reaches out and grabs a hold of Yamato’s arm, pulling him magnificently off balance; Yamato manages to regain his composure long enough to right himself, and no further.

 

 

“What’s the idea here?” Yamato demands, furrowing his brow.

“Come here.”

“Already did.”

Gaku’s face darkens into a scowl; Ryuu smiles despite himself. Yamato, after a moment of self-satisfaction, gives in. Gaku pulls him so that Yamato’s back is to his chest, and Yamato acts mock-taken aback.

“Cuddling? Really?”

“Shut up,” is how Gaku says yes.

Gaku tucks his arms around Yamato’s midsection – careful to avoid that he himself smeared there – letting Yamato rest his head against his shoulder. He takes the offer, letting his head fall halfway back; for a moment he closes his eyes, exhaling deeply. It almost looks like he might fall asleep, but about five seconds later, he pops his head back up, his eyes flying back open, and he looks at Ryuu. It’s the first time either of them has looked at him since before Gaku started prepping Yamato, and it’s a bit of a system shock.

“Not sure how this is gonna work if we’re not going to blue-ball Tsunashi-san,” Yamato says, speaking to Gaku but his eyes on Ryuu (and, Ryuu realizes immediately, his dick, which is still very, remarkably hard).

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Gaku says, then looks over at Ryuu as well. He nods, as if giving a go-ahead. “Ryuu.”

Ryuu’s face flushes, still adjusting to being addressed again.

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” he says, words sounding a bit weird on his tongue after he spent this long proverbially biting it. “I was just going to—” he says, gesturing towards the door.

“Slink off never to be seen again,” Yamato fills in dramatically; his words sound a little slurred, but Ryuu if anyone is completely fluent in Drunk. “I’m wounded, Tsunashi-san. Maybe he doesn’t actually like fucking around with us after all.”

“That’s not it!” Ryuu blurts with such immediacy that Gaku chuckles and Yamato grins.

“Oh?” Gaku says, a simple upwards-pitched syllable.

Ryuu feels his face burn.

He won’t (can’t) deny the way his dick twitches in turn, but he shakes his head furiously. “It’s okay,” he says, putting his hands up, palms out and fingers splayed. “I’ll be fine, I swear.”

Yamato grins lopsidedy, like he can’t quite muster the effort to smile evenly. “Knock it off with the martyr bit, Tsunashi-san,” he says, his words getting more slippery by the sentence. “Don’t wanna be a dick and leave you out, or something. Sending you off with your tail between your legs half the time feels like shit.” It’s a level of frankness that kind of takes Ryuu off-guard coming from Yamato.

“You need to rest, Yamato-kun,” Ryuu insists; it’s late, Yamato is the drunkest of them, and— and Ryuu chooses to not commentate on Gaku rolling his eyes behind Yamato. “You’re practically falling asleep as it is.”

As he speaks, he attempts to will away his erection through sheer force.

“Yeah, and?” Yamato says perfectly matter-of-factly, and Ryuu feels an electric jolt run up his spine. Yamato lifts a hand up and twirls a bit of Gaku’s hair around one finger while he sorts his words into a coherent order. “You could just fuck me while I’m sleeping, ‘d’be fine.”

Yamato is, apparently, trashed; between the booze and the—events that just transpired – his filter is quite self-evidently gone. That’s what Ryuu tells himself on repeat; it’s the only possible explanation for how casually he puts the idea out there. He just doesn’t know what he’s saying, right?

None of that changes the fact that the offer sends something coiled and white-hot into the pit of Ryuu’s stomach, and he only barely manages to bite back a groan. Any progress he’d been making on willing away his erection goes flying out the window.

(Actually, it’s not like Yamato is ever particularly abashed about anything involving sex, outside of not particularly liking being face-to-face, so this isn’t even _that_ hard to believe from him even if he’d been sober—)

…

All the while that Ryuu is having this mental struggle (the sixtieth mental struggle of the night!), Gaku’s hands drift downwards, pawing at Yamato’s half-soft dick again.

“Oi, dickhead, knock it off,” Yamato mumbles, shifting a little bit – he’s still sensitive – but his attempts to squirm away from the contact are half-assed at best.

Gaku, in turn, hums from his chest. “Stop complaining,” he says, but his words are remarkably toothless. Yamato huffs indignantly but settles back against him in short order.  
Gaku’s own drunkenness bleeds through a bit when he settles his chin in the crook of Yamato’s neck, not quite nuzzling, but something similar. He glances up at Ryuu again, moving just his eyes. “Ryuu, are you really just going to sit there staring?”

Ryuu blinks a couple times, then snaps back to reality.

“What?”

“He made an offer,” Gaku says.

“An offer that stands,” Yamato adds helpfully, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

There is absolutely no way that Ryuu is going to—to fuck Yamato while he’s sleeping. _No matter how much every time he thinks about it, his dick throbs back to an almost painful hardness._ He is ignoring that. It is off the table.

(So why isn’t he actually leaving--?)

(Because he doesn’t want to be rude of course! Obviously. _Obviously._ )

“Yeah, but—” Ryuu begins, fidgets a little bit and self-consciously (and to absolutely no effect) attempts to cover his erection with his hands.

While he attempts to come up with an excuse – and fails at this magnificently – Yamato’s head falls back against Gaku’s shoulder, his eyes sliding shut.

“It’s just—I – was planning on—” Ryuu stutters, then pauses and blinks.

Did Yamato… fall asleep? Just like that? Maybe Ryuu was right; maybe Yamato really did need the rest. (Or maybe he’s just being a sleepy drunk tonight, and sex took a lot of out of him, and Gaku is warm and comfortable and—)

 “… Yamato-kun?” Ryuu ventures gingerly,

“Oi. Nikaido,” Gaku says, nudging the side of his face with his own.

Yamato doesn’t respond to either of them. Gaku nudges him, and his head lolls to the side. His glasses fall a little bit askew with the movement, and he doesn’t even lift his hand to push them back up. That’s the most damning evidence that he’s out like a light, and his breathing is already settling into a more measured rhythm.

Ryuu heaves a heavy sigh of relief, tension falling out of his shoulders. “Alright,” he says. He makes vague plans in his head to go take care of himself in the privacy of his own room; he makes a valiant effort to maintain his modesty as he makes to stand up.

“You’re going somewhere?” Gaku says, sounding genuinely surprised, albeit in a rather flattened way.

“Well—he fell asleep, so—” Ryuu begins, but Gaku cuts him off.

“So you’re going to fuck him, right?”

It’s so blunt and straightforward that Ryuu goes lightheaded, and it takes another second past that before he finds words again. He stops dead, with one knee still propped up on Gaku’s bed and the other foot on the floor.  “I can’t!” he blurts as soon as his mouth deigns to work.

Gaku stares at him impassively. Ryuu’s kind of impressed at his composure.  
“Why not? He’s already prepared,” he says, hooking his chin over Yamato’s shoulder and glancing down; Ryuu instinctively follows Gaku’s eyeline, even though he has been trying _very hard_ not to look at—

(At the half-dried lube smeared on the insides of his thighs and the mess Gaku left behind and the smear of his own cum across his abs—)

( _Because if Ryuu looks, he’ll stare, and if he stares, he’ll start entertaining thoughts of how easy it’d be_ —)

“That’s not what I mean,” Ryuu says, averting his eyes all-too conspicuously, making a half-hearted attempt to pull his underwear up. “He’s—he’s practically passed out.”

“He said he wanted you to,” Gaku fires back without a moment of hesitation. He’s not even moving, still sitting with Yamato half-draped on him, and yet he’s immobilizing Ryuu with nothing more than simple statements and intense, intent stares.

Of course, there’s nothing _physically_ stopping Ryuu from leaving, and he knows it, but maybe some part of him wants to say he at least made a token attempt to excuse himself.

…

He slowly lowers himself back onto the bed again, his face feeling like it’s overheating by a hundred degrees.

Gaku hums, and smiles with his eyes while his mouth stays neutral. “I’m going to go clean myself up,” he says after a moment, pulling his arms out from around Yamato. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but it speaks something to how conked out Yamato is that he only stirs a little bit while Gaku extricates himself, then settles right back down as he’s laid down.

Ryuu watches Gaku as he makes for his bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. With an apprehension he knows is irrational but since when has that stopped anything irrational ever, Ryuu looks back at Yamato.

Yamato’s definitely asleep, an awkward sprawl of limbs on Gaku’s bed, a sticky mess drying on his stomach and a slightly slicker, less-sticky mess in between his legs, just in case Ryuu had any delusions of pretending anything here is innocent. His glasses are still a bit askew and his lips are just barely parted by his breath. It’s inelegant and it’s unguarded and Ryuu doesn’t really care to untangle the feelings _that_ inspires all of a sudden.

Ryuu bites his lip and glances towards the bathroom door. He figures he has a couple more minutes before Gaku re-emerges. That means he has that long to make his decision, right?

… it’s not that he _minds_ being watched, he just prefers to be the watcher. It just feels like—like if he’s going to do this, he’s going to have to at least get started before Gaku’s eyes are back on him. Ryuu shuffles across the bed towards Yamato, excruciatingly careful, even though Yamato isn’t a particularly light sleeper on the best of days.

Hovering over Yamato, he wonders if he should turn him over onto his belly.

( _Why bother?_ another part of him says in a snap. _He doesn’t like fucking face to face because he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable; it’s not like it’s possible to get more vulnerable than ‘asleep’ anyway,_ and _he’s not gonna feel any emotions at all, so why bother?_ )

Add that to the ‘thoughts that make his dick throb uncomfortably hard, and not thinking about that’ pile, and yet--

Ryuu almost numbly grabs for the bottle of lube sitting on Gaku’s bedside table, and—and he knows he doesn’t need to finger Yamato any more, he _knows_ , but—

He kind of wants to, and he autopilots himself through slicking his fingers up and pressing, inquisitively, at Yamato’s hole. It takes almost no effort at all to slip his fingers in – even less than usual when he goes after Gaku – and he has to bite his lip.

Yamato huffs a little bit but doesn’t stir at the intrusion, and Ryuu is hit with the immediate and dizzying revelation that _Yamato won’t muffle himself while he’s asleep_.

_Shit._

He spends a few more seconds rocking his fingers into Yamato, feeling his own blush reach his ears, but any chance he had of actually leaving is gone. He draws his hand back out and half-fumbles with the lube, slicking himself up and shuddering as he tries to stave off the part of his brain that feels _so much more shame than usual_.

Too late now, anyway.

Ryuu so-gingerly positions himself between Yamato’s legs and pushes them up by the inside of the knee, doing his best to disturb him as little as possible as he does. He feels almost like he should apologize, but he knows it would fall on deaf ears at best, so he bites it back. Even if he hadn’t, it’d immediately get lost under the hiss that escapes through pressed teeth as he lines up and pushes in.

There’s less resistance than Ryuu was counting on; he thought he knew what to expect, but he still pushes in a little deeper than he perhaps meant to all at once. Yamato breathes out a choked little noise, an unguarded hitch of his breath that Ryuu isn’t sure he’s ever heard him make while he’s been awake. It takes a _significant_ amount of self-control on Ryuu’s part not to just… keep going and bury himself in one smooth motion. Physically, he _could._

(He almost never can, because – not that he’d be arrogant about it, but he’s very _not small,_ and as a result, he’s always so conscious, careful not to hurt anyone he sleeps with. But just because Yamato is asleep now, it doesn’t mean he won’t still feel the aftermath later.)

( _But he could._ )

He draws back out and rocks in much more carefully; Yamato makes that noise again, a simple reflex, and Ryuu can feel the tension in himself, strung taut as a bow, and his heartbeat bangs in his ears. So much so, in fact, that he doesn’t immediately notice the click of Gaku’s bathroom door opening.

He sees Gaku out of the corner of his eye, but the time to be actually embarrassed is gone. He’ll deal with it later, and he laser-focuses his attention on the tight-slick-warm around his dick, drawing in and out deliberate and slow. It’s easy to keep his focus on that sensation, right until Gaku drops down on the bed next to him.

“How’s he feel?”

Gaku’s words cut through Ryuu’s attention like a knife—not just because of the words themselves, but because Gaku is quite suddenly very close, speaking too-close to Ryuu’s ear, and it sends a not-unpleasant shiver down his spine. Gaku’s not pressed up to his back, but he’s as close as he can be without doing so. His words are blunt and direct and totally confident and Ryuu is suddenly quite glad he can never hear Gaku when he’s speaking into Yamato’s ear because his imagination already does enough and—

Ryuu tries to find words of his own, but he can’t quite seem to locate them, struck dumb.

Gaku is undeterred. “He’s not gonna break, Ryuu,” he says, and that is _not what Ryuu needs to hear right now_. He wonders if maybe Gaku is a little drunker than he pretended to be.

His hips stutter a little bit, goaded into action as if beyond Ryuu’s control. Yamato stirs for only a half a second, and fear grips Ryuu and stills him until Yamato settles back down with a shuddered breath.

“Gaku, you’re not— not helping,” he manages through grit teeth, trying very hard to keep his composure.

“ _Fuck him harder_.”

The hissed words are not a suggestion.

_Dammit._

(It’s not like he didn’t want to and he didn’t need the encouragement and—)

It’s way, way, way too easy to do as instructed. Ryuu pushes Yamato’s legs a bit further back, and when he doesn’t wake, he just—

Kind of—

Fucks harder.

He keeps his pace slow, doesn’t want to push his luck that much. He doesn’t need to. He keeps his eyes on Yamato’s face, takes careful note of how his mouth falls a little bit further open, how his brow furrows when Ryuu draws out, how he makes the smallest unguarded whines every time Ryuu slides back in.

And he _doesn’t wake up_ , laid out by alcohol and exertion.

_God dammit._

At some point Gaku slipped away from Ryuu’s side – Ryuu can’t really keep track of him – and he reappears sitting alongside Yamato, watching from a new angle. He pets Yamato’s hair away from his face in a gesture that seems too gentle by far. He traces fingertips across Yamato’s lips, and – damnably – slips his fingers back into Yamato’s barely-open mouth.

Ryuu groans.

Yamato’s mouth opens for them with distressing ease, and Gaku smirks as he presses the pads of his fingers against his tongue, and with his mouth open— the noise Yamato makes when Ryuu rocks back in is going to stay etched in Ryuu’s mind for far longer than he wants to admit. _Not everyone has an oral fixation,_ indeed, but Gaku’s unstated mission to impart his on everyone around him is working great on Ryuu at least.

Ryuu was never going to last long from the moment he caved, and he feels like the fact that he’s managed to keep it up this long is impressive in and of itself. His hands fall to Yamato’s hips and he grabs a little harder than he intends as he drags out and—

Well.

( _He doesn’t have to give warning._ )

Maybe he doesn’t mean to just-barely-short-of _slam_ back in, but what he meant to do is long-abandoned. He also doesn’t mean to bite out a half-choked _Yamato-kun_ , but that happens too.

Yamato still doesn’t wake up, even with Ryuu’s dick twitching inside him ( _and making him even more of a mess than he already is,_ the voice in Ryuu’s head reminds him).

Ryuu breathes like a winded bull, and he lets go of Yamato’s hips a couple seconds after he has the thought that he should. He wasn’t gripping hard enough to leave bruises, but the temptation is always there, so he still checks.

 “Nice job, Ryuu,” Gaku says dryly, pulling his fingers out of Yamato’s mouth as Ryuu pulls out elsewhere, and the heat starts filling back into his cheeks as the reality of what he just _did_ starts to settle in.

He can’t believe he just did that.

( _Yamato insisted on it, though._ )

“I—” Ryuu begins, then shuts his mouth again. Words are not his forte tonight. He opens his mouth and closes it uselessly a couple times. “Should—should we clean him up?” he manages at last.

Gaku regards him for a moment.

“Nah. I’m gonna be awake for a while.”


	2. i just want a crescendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you all had the opportunity to stop this, and yet, you did not, so i am legally not accountable

Frankly, the only thing keeping Ryuu from burning alive with shame is the inertia of the situation. If he stops to think, he’s certain he’ll be consumed by the fact that every sensible part of him is screaming that this is _wrong_ , this is something shameful and dirty and—

And, yes, it’s something Yamato agreed to, asked for, _is into,_ but unfortunately, it’s none of that that silences his guilt for the time being. It will be what silences his guilt later, or at least dulls it— but not now.

Nope.

What’s overriding his shame is the fact that the horrible little part of him _really_ wants to come on Yamato’s face more than it wants to maintain a sense of propriety.

He’s going to have to deal with that later, probably, but that can wait.

Gaku was being sincere when he said he’d be awake for a while yet, and the implications there were crystal clear. He even gave Ryuu plenty of chances to see himself out, in case he wanted to slink off and preserve some modicum of dignity or self-respect.

Ryuu, obviously, has taken exactly none of these chances, and that’s how he’s come to where he is now.

Gaku is settled in between Yamato’s legs; he’s taking a second turn, and he seems to have figured out how much he can get away with and how to coax unguarded little noises out of Yamato’s sleeping mouth every so often. The sight – of Yamato still completely laid out asleep, Gaku not quite exhausted but definitely disheveled… well.

He definitely understands why watching would inspire Gaku to go again. He’d understand even if he didn’t already have his _thing_ about watching.

 _Practically_ , what this means is that Ryuu is just a bit further up, sitting up on his knees with dick in hand, hovering so-close to Yamato’s face while he sleeps, none the wiser.

When Ryuu clambered up, he pulled Yamato’s glasses from his face and set them aside, even though he _really_ wanted to leave them on. He needs some vestiges of propriety, though. (It doesn’t hurt that his unobscured face is another thing neither of them get to see that often, so as long as the opportunity is there…)  
He’s being _polite,_ Ryuu insists to himself while he jacks off over Yamato’s sleeping face.

(No, he’s _not_ even remotely fooling himself.)

Ryuu’s reverie doesn’t last altogether that long. Gaku huffs and pushes Yamato’s legs back a little further as he pushes in a little harder, at a new angle. Yamato, in his turn, stirs; he shifts against the movement, furrows his brow, makes a hitched and half-groaned noise as he threatens to wake.

And for reasons Ryuu _very much_ doesn’t want to examine, that thought (that _threat_ ) pushes him very, very quickly towards an almost frantic climax.

“Shit—” Ryuu grits out, the coiled tension in his gut snapping so hard it almost hurts. Before his higher brain can catch up to him, he leans forward. Holding himself up with one hand, he uses his other hand to tightens his grip around himself. Biting his lip, he coaxes out as much of his release as he can, painting haphazard streaks of white across Yamato’s cheek, his chin, his barely-parted lips.

While Ryuu waits for his heartbeat to stop roaring in his ears, Yamato settles back down, almost _defiantly_ not waking up. Ryuu’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed, leaning over a still-sleeping Yamato, with his own dick softening in his hand and his cum on Yamato’s face.

Gaku huffs a breathy laugh and Ryuu feels his face flush as he settles his weight back.

(Oh, _god_ , that mental image is going to be seared into his brain, and also, oh _god_ what is he doing—)

Ryuu can’t be sure how close Gaku was before, but he doesn’t last much longer now, pulling up Yamato’s hips to meet his own. Gaku’s eyes slip closed and he grits his teeth, dragging his nails along Yamato’s skin. Ryuu almost but not quite regrets the fact that he didn’t leave any marks of his own, thinks distantly that finger-shaped bruises might look nice alongside the red lines Gaku’s threatening to leave on his hips.

Gaku bows his head down to press a kiss to Yamato’s collarbone, weirdly chaste for what immediately preceded it, and rests his forehead against Yamato’s sternum for a few moments.  
(He doesn’t pull out. He _very conspicuously_ doesn’t pull out.)

“I’m gonna—go clean up,” Ryuu manages even though his mouth feels dry, and stands up despite his limbs feeling impossibly heavy. Gaku had the chance earlier and Ryuu didn’t, and he—he definitely needs a moment to clear his head.

(For all the good it’ll do him.)

“I’ll be here,” Gaku says, words nonchalant but voice a little hoarse. Ryuu doesn’t doubt him for a second, and he makes his way to Gaku’s bathroom.

*

When Ryuu comes back out, only mildly more composed, it doesn’t last. He took his sweet time, but he’s still half-floating on that heady feeling, that inertia, the kind of guilty thrill. His at least marginal grounding doesn’t last.

It doesn’t last because Gaku is – as Ryuu kind of expected he would be – still inside Yamato. He’s rocking shallowly now, _gently_ , and Ryuu feels his pulse jump again. (It looks... _nice,_ but he immediately feels self-conscious.)

(He feels self-conscious immediately, yes, but he stares for a good ten seconds before his mouth works.)

“I—” Ryuu starts, glancing at the door. He’s about to ask if he should see himself out, but Gaku is having none of it.

“Ryuu, come here,” he says, not really a request but not sharp enough to be a command. Ryuu doesn’t argue the point, crossing back over to Gaku’s bed and clambering back on, if pulled along on a lead.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” Ryuu says lamely, averting his eyes as though politely.

“You don’t have to act like you’re stuck third wheeling, you know,” Gaku says, almost sounding hurt. (He punctuates this with a gentle rock into Yamato and Yamato so-helpfully provides a little hitched breath. Thanks!)

“No, no, it’s fine,” Ryuu says, shaking his head. “I’m—I’m getting kind of tired. I probably won’t be able to stay awake long enough after you—”

“You don’t have to wait.”

Ryuu doesn’t immediately register what he means. To his credit, though, it doesn’t _really_ take that long. Gaku watches him and his gaze is almost burning; Ryuu looks from Gaku to Yamato and back again, and he hesitates, as if his mind is trying to protect him from itself.

Ryuu’s heart leaps directly into his throat with such force that it sends the rest of his head spinning. He attempts to swallow, but his mouth is suddenly very dry.

“I—ah—”

“No?” Gaku says, and Ryuu knows immediately – from the way his stomach sinks, or maybe the way his dick jumps – that he’s already doomed.

“… you’re sure it’s okay?” he asks, maybe a little bit too late. Gaku nods.

_(He’s going to have to write a formal apology to Yamato in the morning at this rate—)_

Gaku hums an assent, and Ryuu’s breath shakes. “He can take it,” Gaku says, sounding distressingly fond when contrasted with what he’s saying. He speaks with a surety that makes Ryuu think that they must have discussed this at some point without him, and that completely wrecks any possibility of him holding out.

(Ryuu has no reason to _distrust_ Gaku, and he figures – no, he _knows_ – that Gaku wouldn’t actually push any of Yamato’s boundaries, so much of his roughness is just an act; so if Gaku says it’s okay…)

“Alright. I—yeah. Okay,” he says, closing the space between them on hands and knees. (It takes so little to convince him of things. Maybe he just really wants the excuse.)

(Yeah.)

It only takes a few seconds for him to grab the lube and slick up his fingers and then, it’s just a matter of—well.

Ryuu’s head feels light as air as he slides a hand down, feels Yamato stretched around Gaku’s cock, and in that moment, he can feel the last vestige of his restraint disappear. Maybe he was hoping that he’d chicken out, but the opposite happens. He tucks lube-slick fingers in alongside Gaku, devastatingly careful. He can’t quite look Gaku in the eye, and so he keeps his gaze on what he’s doing, which… is only so much better, really.

He knows that his care is ultimately in vain, but he can’t help but try. Every ragged slip of Gaku’s dick past his fingers makes not only Yamato’s breath hitch, but Ryuu’s as well. The thought of the point he’s barreling towards is almost painful, and he has to swallow down his impatience.

He’s bigger than his own fingers. ( _He’s bigger than Gaku_ , and it it’s hardly like Gaku is small—) He _has_ to be careful.

Gaku’s not helping. “It’s fine, Ryuu,” he mumbles. Ryuu’s not sure he believes him, and he tries his best to spend at least a little more time prepping Yamato, but—

Look. There’s only so much he can do, and he’d be lying if he said that the thought of what he’s about to do wasn’t clouding his judgment more than a little bit.

_(And he doesn’t want Gaku to get off without him.)_

(Ignoring that.)

Ryuu drags his fingers away and looks to Gaku for guidance; Gaku nods once, and the slow rock of his hips up into Yamato comes to a stop so Ryuu can align himself. Ryuu presses himself up, his chest to Yamato’s back

(he’s so _warm_ )

And, careful as he possibly can, he lines up, his dick nudging up against where Gaku’s already buried. He swallows thickly, closes his eyes, and starts to press in.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t go quickly. Ryuu wonders momentarily if this was maybe a bad idea, but then Yamato gives way.

And Ryuu can’t _breathe._

Gaku’s eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before he hisses in turn, digging his fingers into Yamato’s hips and gritting his teeth. (Ryuu wonders distantly, in a thought that can’t quite fully form, if Gaku’s holding back the urge to sink his teeth into Yamato’s shoulder.)

“ _Fuck._ ” Ryuu chokes on words, tucking his arms around Yamato’s abdomen to hold the both of them steady.

 _Tight_ isn’t the word; it’s almost searing, too-much stuffed into too-little space, made too-easy by abundant preparation (if he can call it that) and the slick mess that makes the obscenest sounds as Ryuu pushes deeper past it.

Ryuu bottoms out after what feels like a million years.

Before he has the chance to adjust, before the reality has the chance to set in, Gaku’s hand moves and falls to Yamato’s dick, trapped between himself and Gaku.

He comes almost immediately.

Gaku’s hand stroking along his dick once, twice, is enough to pull him over the edge even in his current state. Yamato tries to clench up but _can’t_ , and instead goes almost painfully tight around Gaku and Ryuu. Gaku’s hand immediately falls back to Yamato’s hip, like Gaku needs to brace himself. He probably does. (Ryuu certainly does.)

Then Yamato chokes out a noise.  
“Ah—”  
It really is a _noise_ , not even an attempt at words; Yamato’s not _awake_ yet; he’s in that blurry twilight of awareness, and Ryuu freezes, feeling like even too loud a breath would be out of line.

Yamato stirs; this time, he doesn’t immediately settle down. Ryuu can hardly blame him, but it still sends a jolt through him—of fear, guilt, excitement, arousal, he’s not sure which, because it’s all of the above and they’re tangled together.

Yamato shifts; he tries to move but can’t, held in place between Gaku’s hands on his hips and Ryuu’s arms around him, and that just inspires him to struggle a bit harder, albeit in a more-than-half-asleep and less-than-half-hearted way.

Ryuu’s not sure what he should do. ( _He_ should _let Yamato go,_ he thinks distantly, but another, significantly louder voice in Ryuu’s head says that, frankly, _he’d rather die_.)

Yamato’s eyes blearily crack open, not quite conscious, trying to slide into focus on Gaku’s face with limited success.

And Gaku—

Gaku huffs before he lifts a hand away from Yamato’s hip to pet his hair. He all but shushes him, pushes his hair back away from his forehead and presses a feather-light kiss there. (He doesn’t – Ryuu can’t help but notice – disturb the mess that’s on Yamato’s face. Perhaps he likes the look of it too.)

(Fuck.)

Instead of pulling away, Yamato almost _whines_ – more noises Ryuu is wholly sure Yamato wouldn’t be caught dead making voluntarily – and lets himself fall forward, resting his forehead on Gaku’s shoulder. His breath is shaky and heavy, bitten-out noises—

(Ryuu’s almost _certain_ that that last one was a slurred combination of his and Gaku’s given names, but maybe he’s just hearing what he wants to hear—)

Gaku glances at Ryuu, and Ryuu’s not sure if the look is _expectant_ or what, but Ryuu takes it as though it is. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to the back of Yamato’s neck, hugs him around the midsection, and waits. The tenderness feels wrong – almost _duplicitous_ – not only because Yamato would be very performatively uncomfortable with it under normal circumstances, but also… well.

Such as it is, staying still is getting unbearable, almost _painful,_ and Ryuu wonders if he should pull out, try again later (or never, if his conscience ever catches up to him). As soon as he thinks that, Yamato starts to relax, Gaku’s shoulders fall as he does the same.

“Can—” Ryuu says, barely above a whisper, looking to Gaku for—guidance? Reassurance? Not permission, certainly. “Should we—?”

Gaku’ breath is just barely shaky around the edges, but he’s doing a pretty good job of maintaining his composure, all told. Instead of answering, he so-carefully rocks his hips, and from that moment, there’s no room in Ryuu’s mind for uncertainty.

What there _is_ room for is the way Gaku’s dick feels pushing past his own, the movement almost too much to take. (And that’s from _Ryuu’s_ perspective, he thinks how Yamato would feel if he were awake, how he’s going to feel in the _morning--_ )  
Ryuu grits his teeth and carefully, so carefully, like he’s afraid he might break something if he moves too fast, pulls his hips back just enough to rock back in shallowly. Anything more would be too much.

(For Yamato, or for Ryuu? Good question.)

It’s agonizingly slow, imperfect and ragged and rhythmless, but Ryuu can’t care about any of that. The only thing in the world as far as he’s concerned is the almost-not-quite painful pressure on his dick, cut through only by the whining little noises that spill unbidden from Yamato’s mouth, the moments that Gaku slides too-easy against him, facilitated by the mess of lube and—

(That’s too _—_ )

Ryuu groans and glances up, and he realizes – perhaps belatedly – that Gaku is watching him. His eyes are hooded, maybe a little dazed, but his stare is unavoidably intent, his mouth hanging open a fraction of an inch. (If that’s how Gaku looks, Ryuu can only imagine himself—)

For a brief and delirious moment, Ryuu _really_ wants to kiss Gaku. (But that’d be rude, or selfish, or… something else, the point is that he can’t possibly demand that—)  
That brief and delirious moment becomes several moments, and it’s probably just the inertia of the situation yet again that gets him to lean forward as he hilts into Yamato.

Gaku leans forward to meet him, craning his neck a little to reach over the shoulder of the man between them, and Ryuu’s almost _certain_ that he feels Gaku smile into it when Ryuu catches his lips, almost as if he had been waiting for Ryuu to take some goddamn initiative.

Or maybe Ryuu’s imagining things again.

Either way.

Gaku hums into the kiss and rocks a little bit harder into Yamato, and it takes so much (so _very_ much) of Ryuu’s self-control to keep his cool, and he can only hold out so much. Gaku’s movement becomes more erratic and Ryuu finds himself – whether to match it or spurred on by it he’s not sure – doing the same.

Ryuu breaks the kiss, breathing hard. His thighs trembling, he pushes all the way into Yamato, and he’s gone, his head spinning from how hard he comes. Gaku is only a few seconds behind; Ryuu’s dick is still twitching when Gaku’s follows suit. Gaku can’t fully stifle the groan that rises out of his chest, and so —

(Ah, Ryuu was right after all—)

— sinks his teeth into Yamato’s shoulder to muffle the noise.

The silence that follows is almost crushing. Ryuu swears that the thumping of his heart must be audible. For a few seconds, time loses all meaning, tangled in a mess of limbs and body heat.

Ryuu pulls out gingerly, shakily, keeps his arms tucked around Yamato, tries not to think too hard about the mess he’s leaving behind.

He fails magnificently at not thinking too hard about it. He can’t help but let go of Yamato so that he can lean back and stare as Gaku eases himself out as well.  
(After the both of them have gotten off, what, three times each? It can’t have been much the last time, but that doesn’t matter because all together—)

(Ah—)

Yamato stays slumped forward against Gaku and sleepy-whines a little for the sudden emptiness; the noise is muffled by Gaku’s shoulder. None of them moves for a minute; Gaku rests his hands on Yamato’s thighs rubbing ineffectual but theoretically-soothing circles, and Ryuu sitting and staring. Yamato, for his part, is _so_ out, and he’s completely dead-weighting. It’s really, really impressive, and if Ryuu didn’t know better, he’d almost be worried.

“I’m— going to go get something to clean up with,” Ryuu murmurs, almost slurs, and Gaku nods wordlessly.

Ryuu’s legs are remarkably unstable as he stumbles to his feet. Everything between getting up and coming back from Gaku’s bathroom with a washcloth is a misty blur, and he’s kind of impressed that Gaku isn’t already asleep by the time he gets back.

Ryuu at least makes a cursory attempt at courtesy; he cleans Yamato’s face off and finally wipes off where Gaku smeared his own cum, now long-dried, on his abs. He hands the washcloth off to Gaku so that he can make a token attempt at cleaning his own stomach off.

Gaku may or may not try to hand it back to Ryuu or attempt to clean Yamato up any more; Ryuu would not know, because by the time Gaku would have the chance to, Ryuu has laid down, and the moment he does that, he’s doomed.

Ryuu tucks an arm around Yamato and starts drifting off in record time; the last thing he even _remotely_ remembers is Gaku rearranging himself and Gaku’s hand petting his hair before his arm settles over the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pov change equals chapter break don't miss part 3 it's already there


	3. -- and a killer queen

Yamato wakes up in a honey-thick haze, and keeps his eyes squeezed shut as the horrible, horrible fact of being awake starts to catch up with him. Without the distraction of the shafts of daylight creeping their way through the thick curtains threatening to sear his (sure to be blurry, sans glasses) vision, he can take inventory of what he can feel.

So: what _does_ he feel?

Sore, mostly; there’s the slight throb in his head teasing the barest hint of a hangover, but it pales in comparison to the ache that’s much further south, the kind of sore where walking straight immediately may be a bit of an ordeal without a couple ibuprofen and grit teeth.

( _Hell yes._ )

He’s also very, very warm; he’s pressed up against one heavy body behind him – it feels like Ryuu – and another from the front – by process of elimination, Gaku.  
Ryuu’s got one arm tucked around Yamato’s midsection in an inelegant hug, while Gaku’s got an arm slung over the top of both of them. Their legs are intertwined inelegantly, and when he tries halfheartedly to disentangle, he becomes quite certain that there’s a mess of sticky and slick on the insides of his thighs.

(Again: _fuck yes._  He can’t even be that mad that they left a mess.)

Yamato gingerly ventures one eye open, but both fly open instead when he’s met with Gaku, sleepy but definitely awake, watching him.

“Morning,” Gaku says like this is any kind of normal, and he smiles damnably; Yamato’s expression in return must be hilarious, because Gaku only barely manages not to laugh at it.

“Fucking heart attack,” Yamato mutters. “Anyone ever tell you it’s really creepy to watch people sleep, Yaotome?” (Yes, he realizes that there is abundant evidence of far, far more than that, but that’s not the same thing.)

“Your kicking me in the shin woke me up about twenty seconds ago,” Gaku says in his own defense, and Yamato scowls ineffectually. Gaku’s voice is still rough with sleep, which does strengthen his case, but Yamato _isn’t happy about it._

(Okay, he’s not complaining.)

“Hand me my glasses.”

“Dunno where Ryuu put them.”

Yamato groans, accepting defeat and slipping his eyes shut again. At least this way he doesn’t have to look at Gaku’s dumb smug dumb handsome dumb face. “Feels like Ryuu eventually took the hint,” he says, shifting a little bit to try and get into a more comfortable position, but really, sandwiched between two bodies and tangled up in limbs as he is, his success is limited.

Since he’s not looking, Yamato misses the way the corner of Gaku’s mouth twitches upwards.  “After some degree of encouragement, yes,” Gaku says after a moment of thought, voice wry.

“Took him long enough.”

“You only brought it up this once.”

“Bullshit, I’ve brought it up like six times.”

“Not to Ryuu.”

“And you couldn’t drop some hints on my behalf?”

“That is not part of my job description to a frankly astounding degree.”

“You know, Yaotome, it’s rude to point out things that are blatantly true when, clearly, I need to get my rest,” Yamato says dryly; Gaku scoffs, and Yamato grins a lopsided grin, eyes still closed. Behind him, presumably stirred by their back-and-forth, Ryuu hums from deep in his chest, and it reverberates through Yamato in turn.  
“See? Waking Ryuu up. Rude,” Yamato says, and he can perfectly imagine the way Gaku rolls his eyes.

Ryuu hums instead of actually making words, and when he shifts against Yamato—

It’s kind of hard for Ryuu to hide when he’s. Well. Getting hard.

“G’morning to you too,” Yamato drawls dryly, and it takes a minute for Gaku to catch on.

“Really, Ryuu?” Gaku says, raising a curious eyebrow. His words have no bite to them, more curious than annoyed, but they make Ryuu stutter to a bashful stop anyway.

“Ah—sorry—” he begins to say; Yamato cuts him off before he can truly start.

“Don’t be a dick, Yaotome,” Yamato says immediately, opening his eyes just so he can roll them. He tosses a glance over his shoulder at Ryuu, gives a nod, and rolls his hips as best he can in his position to grind backwards against Ryuu’s half-hard dick.

Ryuu hesitates only for a moment, before he mumbles a concession, squeezing Yamato gently with the arm still tucked around him (it’d be a very cute gesture, were dicks not involved) and rocks forward again.

Gaku props himself up on one arm, resting the side of his face on his knuckles, and regards them, unable to hide his fondness. It’s weird, Yamato supposes, that he finds that more embarrassing than Ryuu sleepy-grinding on his ass.

Priorities.

“You’re feeling alright then,” Gaku says.

“Never better, thanks,” Yamato replies, making a pointed show of grinding his hips back against Ryuu, which is all totally worth it for the little groan that Ryuu can’t hold back. Yamato grins, and Gaku can’t help but smile a little bit as well.

“Yamato-kun, can I--?” Ryuu asks, cutting himself off. He doesn’t want to say it outright, but he’s almost never this forward to begin with, so Yamato’s not about to complain.

(Plus, morning sex? Just, like, in general? Hell yeah.)

(No, he _doesn’t_ realize until too late that this does mean he’ll be face to face with Gaku during, but he’s going to burn that bridge when he gets there.)

“Yeah,” he says, hoping he sounds nonchalant but casting his eyes away from Gaku’s face just in case he doesn’t, “go for it.” Truth be told, he’s already sore, so what’s a little more?

Gaku manages to disentangle himself just long enough to hand the lube off to Ryuu before he settles back into his previous position; Ryuu reluctantly pulls his arm from around Yamato’s midsection so he can get things in order.

A moment later, Ryuu sighs contentedly and snakes a hand down between them, pressing his fingers in. It doesn’t take much; Yamato’s relaxed, and the lube on Ryuu’s fingers is aided by the slickness that still lingers.  
“You’re still so—” he mumbles, cuts himself off by muffling himself on Yamato’s shoulder. He’s embarrassed. It’s cute.

Gaku hums, jolting Yamato’s attention back over to him. “That’s not surprising,” he says; he’s dropped his voice down a bit. Yamato feels a sense of mixed thrill and dread, which he feels is a fair reaction; he’s proven right when Gaku continues, almost horrifyingly blunt compared with Ryuu’s bashfulness and unwillingness to be direct.  
“How many times did we come in him, Ryuu?” he prompts, not even bothering to act like he doesn’t already know.

“Gaku,” Ryuu begins, sounding mildly scandalized on Yamato’s behalf, but Yamato cuts him off.

“Nah, come on, Tsunashi-san,” Yamato says, craning his neck to glance at Ryuu. “I think I deserve to know, yeah?” he says, smirking lazily.

Ryuu pauses, takes a moment, and, stuck somewhere between pride and shame, he says, “… five, altogether.”

Ah. That explains so much. (He has no idea. He will.) Admittedly, anything left over by this point is almost definitely just lube, but it’s the principle of the thing, and it’s really difficult for Yamato to care enough to split hairs with Ryuu fingering him.

“You sleep like the dead, you know,” Gaku remarks, reaching out and rubbing a thumb across Yamato’s cheek; he’d recoil if he had anywhere to recoil to, so instead he just pulls a face.

“Maybe so, and yet, you still banged me. That says more about you guys than about me,” Yamato fires right back, and Gaku – yet again – rolls his eyes.

Ryuu doesn’t even complain about their arguing this time; he’s a bit too preoccupied with his own affairs. He withdraws his hand, and before Yamato can really lament the loss, he rearranges himself to get into position. With one broad hand, he gently pulls Yamato’s leg over his own so that he has an easier time lining up. The head of his dick presses insistently up against Yamato for just a moment, fighting against a bit of token resistance, and then—

Ryuu is _really_ big, and it’s not that Yamato _forgets_ that (how could he?), it’s just—it’s hard to ignore when he’s sinking in, slow, careful, centimeter by aching centimeter. Yamato presses back, or at least tries to, but Ryuu does a pretty good job holding him still.

It’d be very, very annoying if it wasn’t hot, but Yamato thinks with his dick at least half the time, so Ryuu gets a free pass.

“Yaotome said you took the hint,” Yamato says over his shoulder, not quite conversational, but something close enough.

“Ah—yeah,” Ryuu mutters. He’s clearly a little bit ashamed, which, while understandable, is totally and utterly pointless.

“And me, what a shame, asleep for all of it,” he says dryly, and Ryuu chuckles a little bit, which, hey, Yamato will count as a success in these books.

And then, Gaku has to ruin it. Thanks, Gaku! “Mostly, anyway,” Gaku says with an amused little hum.

“Pardon?”

“You almost woke up at one point,” Gaku says, then looks at Ryuu, waiting for him to finish the thought. Yamato can actually feel Ryuu, pressed up against his back, heat up with an embarrassed blush.

“Ah,” Ryuu says, mumbles, sheepish even now. “Yeah.” Gaku’s look is expectant and unflinching, and Ryuu seems to know he’s not going to get out of this. “When we—both—" he stutters over the words, but Yamato puts two and two and _really sore_ together in no time.

Ah.

…

_Ah._

… Ryuu’s so damn big in the first place (as is _very obvious at present)_ that the thought of that and more almost _hurts_ to think about. Needless to say, Yamato shudders with a wave of arousal; Gaku notices, _because of course he does_ , and he smirks.

Yamato either wants to deck Gaku or kiss him, he’s not entirely sure.

“You should tell him how it felt, Ryuu,” he prompts, glancing up from Yamato’s face to Ryuu.

Ryuu’s voice is low and his breath is hot against the back of Yamato’s neck; he murmurs thickly, biting out words as he slowly rocks in and out, “you—it felt— really good—”

“Is that really all you’ve got, Ryuu?” Gaku says, unimpressed. Yamato can’t help but agree with Gaku privately, but he’s already counting his blessings here, so he’s not going to complain.

On a shuddery sigh, Ryuu’s mouth starts trying to work again.

He has more luck this time.

“You felt so _good_ , Yamato-kun,” he says, barely a breath, and with that the words come out like running water, a litany of _you felt so good you were so cute Yamato-kun, you’re still so_ messy _you’re so cute you’re so good you’re so_ good _Yamato-kun_ —

Yamato doesn’t want to talk about the way his face goes hot with something a little warmer than embarrassment. He _really_ doesn’t want to talk about how Gaku watching his expression only compounds the issue.

(He really, really, _really_ should have thought this through more, but see previous comments about thinking with his dick.)

“Not a word,” Yamato mumbles, trying to turn his face away, but Gaku catches his chin and won’t let him.

“Cute,” Gaku says, repeating Ryuu’s choice of word. Yamato tries to scowl, but loses the expression when Ryuu rocks in and hits something deep and aching inside him.

Gaku grins.

In one smooth movement, Gaku presses his hand flat across Yamato’s abdomen, and Yamato wonders in that instant how much Gaku can feel as Ryuu moves inside him. He doesn’t get the chance to ponder that, as Gaku ducks in lightning-quick and catches his mouth in a kiss.

His hand lingers on Yamato’s abdomen for a few long seconds more before it starts pressing down south; all the while, Ryuu’s mouth is still running. Yamato’s not the biggest kisser in the world, to be honest, but it’s better than Gaku watching his expression, so he accepts it, opens his mouth to the gentle coaxing of Gaku’s tongue. Stupid asshole has to be a really great kisser.

(Of _course_ Gaku of all people is.)

Gaku wraps his hand around Yamato’s dick and strokes roughly in time with Ryuu’s movements. He breaks the kiss to allow Yamato to breathe unobscured, then presses back in before he can really realign or gather himself. He does this more than once, any time Yamato hasn’t remembered to breathe for a few seconds.

It’s slow and it’s lazy and it’s almost unbearable for that.

Yamato can’t quite complain, though.

Ryuu’s words get sparser as he goes on, giving way to more huffed breaths and contended sighs. Gaku’s hand speeds up as Ryuu’s rhythm breaks down; he breaks the kiss again, this time with a gentle but not gentle enough little bite on Yamato’s lower lip. It’s only a matter of time before the tension in the pit of Yamato’s stomach snaps.  He spills on Gaku’s hand and arches his back into Ryuu, who follows him not too long afterwards with a telltale throb of his dick.

Gaku regards his hand, made a mess once again, and shrugs as he wipes it on the outside of his own thigh.

“So polite,” Yamato manages, and Gaku smirks, clearly contended.

Ryuu tucks his arm around Yamato’s abdomen again and makes no effort to pull out, and Gaku huddles in a little bit closer so that Ryuu can reach around both of them. In this position it’s abundantly clear that Gaku’s gotten half-hard as well, and Yamato hums.

Gaku may be a dickhead, but Yamato isn’t (he’s an angel, really), so he maneuvers one hand between them to return Gaku’s favor.

Gaku, however, has an entirely different way of running his mouth.

 “So, Ryuu, were you planning to tell him you came on his face?”

Ryuu groans, burying his face in Yamato’s hair in shame.

Yamato grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's still 10/28 in my time zone so this fucking still counts. happy 10/28.
> 
> if you missed the news, i got suspended on twitter for something real stupid, so refollow me [@glitchgoats](https://twitter.com/glitchgoats)! Or follow me the first time if you haven't already!
> 
> never ask me for anything ever again (except please do, especially if you'r willing to commission me)


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